


Vision's First Christmas

by ksvfanfic



Series: ScarletVision Extras [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas Party, Cooking, F/M, Gen, Gift Giving, POV Third Person, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Relationship, Slow Dancing, Steve Really Likes Hot Chocolate, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-09 10:49:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksvfanfic/pseuds/ksvfanfic
Summary: At the Avengers Compound in New York, with Wanda by his side, Vision experiences his very first Christmas.*A short, canon compliant Christmas fic that fits into chapter 30 ofCastle of Memories.*





	Vision's First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarlightSkies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightSkies/gifts).



> This fanfic is a gift for Aarri, as a part of the Scarlet Vision Secret Santa 2017 run by thescarletvisionnetwork on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy, friend!

It's 2:24 PM, Christmas Day 2015. Vision stands alone in front of the large windows in the Avengers' living room, gazing at the wintry scene outside. Though he has experienced snow many times now, the beauty of it never seems to lessen. A faint smile crosses his lips as he watches the glimmering snowflakes dance towards the already smothered ground. Their movement is mesmerizing, magical despite its predictability.

"Oh, good." Vision turns to see Captain Rogers carrying a colorfully wrapped box in his arms and grinning broadly. Behind him, in the kitchen, Sam is already working on tonight's dinner.

Vision dips his head in acknowledgement and smiles back at the Captain. "As predicted."

"Christmas just isn't the same without snow." Captain Rogers bends over to place the wrapped box on top of the already teeming pile underneath their 8-foot Christmas tree. "Last minute arrival," he explains.

Vision nods politely. The Captain walks over to join Sam in the kitchen—and starts making his third cup of hot chocolate.

Lifting his brow muscles with mild amusement, Vision starts to turn back to the window. Instead, his attention is caught by a flutter of movement at the base of the staircase. Warmth floods his chest barely a moment before he recognizes Wanda.

She's dressed in a plain grey sweater and black pants, along with her usual collection of necklaces and rings, and her chestnut brown hair falls in gentle waves over her shoulders. Her gaze turns from Captain Rogers to Vision, and she smiles. Then she indicates the window with her finger. "You never get tired of that, do you?"

"No," Vision admits, smiling freely back at Wanda despite his awareness of two extra pairs of eyes on him.

Wanda crosses the room and turns to look at the scene outside, tilting her head. "I'm so used to seeing snow as a threat," she states. "After spending so much time on the streets—but you make me see how beautiful it is." She looks at Vision, her blue-green eyes disarming in their honesty. "Are you excited for tonight?"

Vision pauses to think. Though he prefers quiet nights where he can spend time alone with a good book—or with Wanda—he does look forward to seeing Mr. Stark. He's even _more_ eager to see how the others react to the gifts he has carefully chosen for them. "Yes," he decides. "And you?"

Wanda tilts her head in something approximating a nod. "I'm sure it will be nice."

Vision smiles. He's about to ask her what she looks forward to most when Captain Rogers says, "If you two aren't busy, we could use help picking some music for tonight."

Sam winces. "Ooh, no." As Captain Rogers looks at him in surprise, he jerks his chin towards Vision and Wanda. "Knowing these two, we'll end up with a bunch of boring instrumentals."

Wanda's eyebrows rise.

"I can help with dinner while the Captain selects the music," Vision offers, and Wanda stops to look at him.

Eyes squinted, Sam glances between Captain Rogers and Vision. "All right," he finally decides. "But when you're done," he tells the Captain, "you bring it to me so I can make sure it's jammin'."

Captain Rogers salutes, rather mockingly. "Yes sir."

As Captain Rogers heads upstairs, Vision hurries across the room, phasing through the couch, the table, and then the counter to join Sam.

"Dude," Sam mutters, but, busy mixing a bowl of ingredients, he makes no further protest. Instead, as Wanda saunters over to the table to watch them work, he directs Vision to mix another bowl. "You gotta let me taste it before you put it in the oven," Sam warns him.

Already busy mixing the ingredients—slowly and carefully, unlike the last time he tried to help Sam cook—Vision blinks at him. "Why is that?"

"Taste is the best way to figure out if it's any good." Sam lets out an exasperated sigh, and, contorting himself around Vision to reach a large portion of ham, mutters a curse word. "If there wasn't so much food to make, I could do this all myself."

"You do seem to prefer that," Vision notes.

Sam shoots him a look.

A few minutes pass. Somewhat more relaxed now that the ham is in the oven, Sam leans his elbows on the counter and looks at Wanda. Vision pauses in the midst of kneading bread dough to glance between them.

"You two are gonna have to change before dinner," Sam says.

Wanda looks down at herself, and then at Vision. "What's wrong with what we're wearing?" she demands.

But Vision sees the other man's point. While Sam, Captain Rogers, and even Natasha are dressed in unusually colorful outfits of red and green, he and Wanda are in more muted colors. Thinking of some of the clothing he has seen online in recent days, Vision shifts the appearance of his sweater to something more appropriate.

As soon as the color settles in, Sam makes a choking sound. "Sweet Jesus!" 

As Vision looks at the other man in concern, Sam starts to laugh. Confused, Vision turns to Wanda, and is dismayed to see that her hand is over her mouth. She, too, seems to be holding back laughter.

"Where did you see _that_ pattern?" she asks in a strained voice.

He looks down at the sweater again. It's red with green trimming and gold buttons, appropriate Christmas colors, and all across the fabric are designs that evoke the holidays: gingerbread men, wreaths, snowmen, presents, trees. It's perhaps a little more gaudy than the clothing he generally wears, but he doesn't see why the others find it so laughable.

"Amazon," he says.

Wanda lowers her hand, then raises it again as a huff escapes her. "I see."

"You look like Christmas exploded all over you," Sam says, before bursting into laughter again. "Especially with the—with your—you're so _red_!"

Wanda lets out another breathy sound. Then, taking in a deep breath, she lowers her hand. "I think Sam meant something a little more understated than that," she says. "Maybe a simple green sweater."

"Ah." With a quick glance down, Vision shifts his sweater to match Wanda's parameters. Swallowing and lifting her chin in an apparent attempt at forced calm, Wanda gives him an approving nod.

Sam continues to chuckle. "Whoo!" he says. "Should've gotten a picture." Turning and walking into the kitchen, he adds, "Can't wait to tell Cap and Natasha about _that_ one."

Still sitting at the table with her legs crossed, Wanda rolls her eyes.

After approximately three and half hours of cooking and cleaning, dinner is almost ready, and all the expected parties are present except two. Sitting beside Wanda at the dining room table, Vision folds his hands together and looks around. Clint Barton, Colonel Rhodes, Agent Hill, and Dr. Cho are all spending the evening with their families, Director Fury declined to attend for reasons unknown, and neither Thor nor Dr. Banner have been heard from in months. As such, there will only be seven attendees tonight: a modest showing.

Sudden, loud footsteps come on the stairs below them, drowning out the quiet Christmas playing through invisible speakers set in the compound walls. Mr. Stark bursts into the room, wearing a silver suit with a red tie and green pocket handkerchief. With his arms spread wide, he declares, "Merry Christmas, everyone!"

Coming up from behind him with a pan of apple cobbler in her hands, Miss Potts adds a more modest, "Hello." She goes to set the pan on the counter next to the rest of the Christmas dinner. "Just some dessert to add to the menu," she tells Sam, who gives a gracious nod in return.

Groaning, Mr. Stark collapses into the empty chair beside Vision. "Robot son," he says, giving Vision a quick once over. "Huh. Green isn't really your color, is it?"

Seeing Sam's face light up with sudden hilarity, Vision hastily responds, "It seemed the best choice."

As Miss Potts sits beside him. Mr. Stark turns to look at Wanda, who returned just moments ago after leaving to change into a glittery red dress.

"Wanda," Mr. Stark says.

Wanda gives a faint smile. Vision notes her body language: sitting back in the chair with her hands folded in her lap and muscles relaxed. This is the most comfortable she been while in Mr. Stark's presence. She seems to be adjusting at last to seeing the man as an ally.

"Stark," she says.

"Here we go!" Sam claps his hands together and steps back from the counter, apparently satisfied with his culinary creation. "Come one, come all."

Vision waits at the table while the others get their food and then retake their seats. As Mr. Stark starts into his meal, he jabs his fork in Vision's direction. "Haven't tried any food yet?" he asks.

Sam laughs as he takes his own seat on the other side of the table. "I've been trying to sell him on peppermint, but the man is _stubborn_."

"It seems a... pointless activity, since I require no nourishment," Vision says. "I do intend to explore a variety of tastes someday, but for now, I find that the sights and sensations of this world are plenty enough without adding taste to the equation."

"It must be pretty overwhelming," Miss Potts says. It's the first time she's ever addressed Vision directly, and he feels the weight of her eyes on him as both a burden and a blessing.

"Indeed." Sitting up straighter, Vision continues, "There are so many wonderful and interesting things in the world, I fear I may never be able to catalog them all—and then when one considers the vastness of space... it's beyond even the human capacity to imagine. I find even the little I've experienced so far impossible to fully understand."

"That's 'cause you're not supposed to understand it," Sam says as he takes a bite of ham. "You just gotta get out and _live_."

Mr. Stark stops eating to gesture in Sam's direction, informing Vision that, "I like this guy."

Beside him, Miss Potts lets out a snort of laughter.

"They have a point," Wanda admits, and Vision turns to look at her. "I like the way you think about things," she tells him, "but some things are too much for thinking. You have to let them just be."

Vision blinks, and Wanda smiles, her eyes crinkling. Vision feels her nudge him, just slightly, with her consciousness—a quiet gesture of reassurance. He returns her smile.

"Well." Sam stands and walks over to get himself another serving of food. "You might not be ready to try it yet, but I gotta say you're missing out on some pretty great stuff here." Looking at Vision, he jabs the serving spoon in the direction of Miss Potts' apple cobbler.

"Amen." Captain Rogers lifts his seventh cup of hot chocolate in the air.

Vision shakes his head.

After dinner, the group moves into the living room to unwrap their presents. Mr. Stark insists on "playing Santa" and dons the appropriate hat before proceeding.

Vision mainly receives books, most of which he has already read, though he doesn't say so. Wanda's selection of a jazz CD he's never before heard and an art book with many pieces he's never seen is his favorite. He's most pleased, however, by the others' responses to their presents from him. Captain Rogers smiles sincerely as he holds a year's pass to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in his hand. Mr. Stark shakes his head and chuckles when he sees his new Iron Man action figure and Iron Man-themed pair of designer sneakers. Miss Potts smiles and thanks Vision for her spa-themed gift basket, which includes a bottle of her favorite champagne. Vision thinks he still detects an edge of discomfort in her interaction with him, but Sam shows no such qualms, hugging Vision in response to his gift of various paraphernalia branded with the logo of his favorite sports team. Natasha also seems glad for the new shoes and necklace, which Vision carefully selected from a list of high-fashion recommendations for 2015.

Wanda's reaction is the best of all. Vision chose for her a book of poetry that he himself enjoyed, as well as a collection of guitar sheet music for some of her favorite songs. When Wanda sees the two gifts, she lets out a small squeal and turns to throw her arms around Vision. The hug is brief, and yet it warms Vision in a deep and all-encompassing way that, for some reason, Sam's hug did not.

After Mr. Stark finishes handing out the presents, the party winds down. Some of the others return to the kitchen for more food, but Mr. Stark insists upon turning up the music so he can dance with Miss Potts. Vision stays on the couch, paging through the books he's received, though he saves Wanda's art book for later, when he can examine it more closely. 

On their return from the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha plop down beside Vision. Both have cookies in their hands, and Natasha also holds a mug of hot chocolate. Catching Vision's glance, Natasha shrugs. "I don't like it as much as Steve does, but I do like it."

"It's good," Wanda agrees. "But I prefer tea."

Vision thinks of the many nights he's brought tea to her room before bed, and a faint smile graces his lips.

Watching Mr. Stark and Miss Potts move across the room, Wanda shakes her head. "They are an... interesting couple."

"Pepper's one of the strongest women I know," Natasha says. When Wanda looks at her, surprised, Natasha sips her hot chocolate and continues, "I worked for Tony for a while. I was undercover, actually, assessing him for the Avengers Initiative, but _he_ didn't know that. Anyway, I got to spend some time with Pepper, and I grew to really admire her."

"But she's with Stark." Wanda wrinkles her nose.

Natasha shakes her head, still watching the couple dance. "I know. It doesn't make any sense, and yet... it works." She glances between Vision and Wanda. "It's one of those things you have to let be. When it works... it works."

Wanda shakes her head, too, and says, quietly but with a definite edge, "Love."

Natasha smiles almost mischievously, but before she can reply, Mr. Stark tugs Miss Potts forward and announces, "All right, I'm bored. Time to head out."

"We're happy to have had you here," Captain Rogers says, lifting his mug. Miss Potts sighs and heads towards the stairs, Mr. Stark traipsing along behind her.

"Speaking of 'Happy,' I'll have him come pick up our gifts later," Mr. Stark tells the Captain. "Merry Christmas, everyone!" He waves to the room at large.

As he and Miss Potts disappear down the stairs, Vision distinctly hears Mr. Stark say, "Now it's party time!"

Wanda lets out a small sigh of her own as Natasha sips her hot chocolate, eyebrows raised.

After Mr. Stark's departure, the rest of the Avengers start cleaning. Once everything's cleared off of the table and counter, Sam puts his hands on his hips, assesses the room, and says, "That's good. I can take care the rest of the dishes tomorrow morning."

"I can do it now," Vision tells him. 

Sam nods and shrugs. "A'ight, whatever you want."

"Sam and I are gonna watch some old Christmas movies," Captain Rogers says. "If any of you want to join us..." He indicates towards the stairs.

With a quick glance at Vision and Wanda, Natasha steps out from behind the counter. "I'll come."

Wanda bites her lip and looks between the trio at the base of the stairs and Vision. Finally, "I'll stay with Vizh," she decides.

So the Captain, Sam, and Natasha head upstairs, leaving Vision and Wanda behind to finish the dishes. Vision hesitates, looking at Wanda, but she continues scrubbing down a pan without another glance in his direction. So he returns to work, Christmas music playing through the speakers around them. 

Between Vision and Wanda, the remaining dishes take about twenty minutes to clean. As Wanda places the last pan back in the cupboard, Vision goes back into the living room to make sure there's no leftover wrapping paper strewn about. He finds a few small pieces on the couches, but nothing more. As he places the paper in the trash, Wanda joins him. Absentmindedly, gazing out into the night, she pats one of the pine tree branches. "That was fun."

"Our first Christmas," Vision notes.

"Well." Wanda tilts her head and scrunches up her nose at him, smiling. " _I_ have been alive for many Christmases. This is just the first one I have celebrated."

Vision draws closer to her, also smiling. "And your thoughts?"

"Not as good as Hanukkah when I was little." Keeping her eyes locked on his, Wanda weaves her way past the tree and in a circle around him, forcing him to turn to follow her. She purses her lips in a playful way. "But fun."

Vision can't help but to give a flash of his white teeth. Wanda comes to a pause in front of him, and slowly, as she gazes into his eyes, her expression shifts to something more serious and searching. It shivers all the way into Vision's bones. Just as he's about to ask her what she's thinking, she lifts one hand and holds it out to him.

"Dance with me?" she asks.

Vision blinks. Bing Crosby's rendition of "White Christmas" wafts through the air around them as he considers her open palm. He can see no reason to refuse her. So he nods, and, taking her hand, steps a little further from the couch. Then he frowns. The only other time he has ever danced is at the party where he and Wanda were introduced to the public as Avengers. He remembers the basics—left hand in hers, right hand on her waist—but still, he worries that he'll make a mistake. 

But Wanda doesn't hesitate. Grasping his hand tightly in hers, she reaches up over his shoulder with her free arm and pulls him closer.

Vision freezes with his right hand in the air over her back, his mind flooding with the memories of all the times they've touched before.

"Are you okay?" Wanda looks up at him, her eyebrows drawing close together.

"Yes," he says. Then, to reassure her, he places his hand on her lower back.

Wanda makes a small, satisfied sound in her throat, and something about that noise cracks Vision's chest open, leaving flares of pain in its wake. Leaning her head in towards him, Wanda starts to sway. Vision moves with her.

His mind churns as he tries to understand what he's feeling. The last time they danced, they were in the midst of a loud, energetic crowd, witnessed by many others. Now, they are alone, in the quiet, and there is nothing to distract Vision from her touch. Every place on his body where she rests against him flares with warmth, and their breaths are a dance in and of themselves: their chests and stomachs brushing each other and then coming apart, over and over again. The music only adds to the ache inside him, and yet, the pain is intertwined with joy.

For all that he's experienced, all the beauty that he's seen, Vision has never before been so overwhelmed as this. The longer they dance, the less his mind seems to work.

Wanda sighs and then lets go of his hand to twine her other arm around his neck. She goes up on her toes so that she can rest her head against his shoulder. Their bodies press tightly together, a reality that Vision finds incredibly distracting. He can feel her every curve and every muscle.

"I am so glad you exist," Wanda says, and though the sensation of her lips and breath on his shoulder is equally distracting, the fact of her speaking brings him back to himself. As the words register in his mind, his throat tightens.

No one has ever before looked at his existence as something to be grateful for—at least, not beyond his use as a weapon. But Wanda, she's speaking of him as a whole, him as a person, and something about that shakes him. For the first time, he thinks of the potential absence of himself as something to mourn for, rather than a natural progression of how life on Earth might have been.

"You're my favorite Avenger," she says, with a little laugh that reverberates through the both of them. "And my best friend." The last phrase comes out with a hint of surprise, as if she's only now realizing it as she speaks.

Vision swallows. "And you are mine," he says.

They sway together for a moment more. Struggling to carry a single thought over the crashing of sensation, Vision reflects on how utterly his attempt to avoid becoming overwhelmed has failed. Careful as he was in avoiding extra sensory input, he has nonetheless wound up here, with Wanda, in a place that he cannot possibly begin to understand.

Sighing, he pulls back, holding Wanda at a distance so he can look her in the face. "Why don't you go join the others? I'll make some tea."

Wanda's surprise turns to happiness, and she gives him a beaming smile. "All right."

Squeezing his shoulder in farewell, she turns and goes up the stairs. Vision phases into the kitchen. Catching his blurry reflection in the refrigerator door, he stops and tilts his head. He glances over his shoulder to be sure no one else is in the room—and then he shifts his sweater back to the design that caused the others to laugh, earlier in the day. His brow muscles rise as he looks at himself.

"Ah," he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
